


tender mercies

by officialhandmaiden



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Lovesickness, Mentions of Cardan/Nicasia, Resolved Sexual Tension, Spoilers for Book 2: The Wicked King, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialhandmaiden/pseuds/officialhandmaiden
Summary: He's sick with longing, and she does not care.





	tender mercies

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i obvi don't own the folk of the air series. if i did we wouldn't have to wait until 2020 for the queen of nothing.

_I._

She was a tempest forced inside muscle and bone. Sea water in the shape of a girl. And she had kissed him first. Her tongue was cold, and the morning after he found pearls, like droplets of water, scattered in the folds of his sheets.

Loving Nicasia was easy. Her beauty, her cruelty; it was like a mirror.

Jude is nothing like Nicasia. A daughter of dirt. A festering wound of a girl. And she had kissed him first. The threat of a slit throat, and her fiendish little mouth had his heart slamming against his ribs.

_II._

“You were surprised when I said I loved Nicasia. You don’t think I’m able.”

“I don’t think of you at all, Cardan.”

Jude is a liar. Sometimes Cardan forgets this.

_III._

On her finger is a ring, a simple toadstone.

In the bath, with rising steam and the scent of lemongrass, he thinks of it. That gold band wrapped around her delicate appendage. Jude could become as vicious as she liked, that tiny bone would still break if he crushed it with his hands. If he peeled away the skin, sinew, let the blood run down his wrists-if she did the same to him-

He sinks beneath the water, staying below until his lungs burn.

_IV._

It’s not the request that offends, but her assumptions of him; a thing without feelings. He’s sick with longing, and she does not care.

Behind that ivy hidden door he stains himself with her humanity. He can smell her mint scented breath, her sweat, her cunt. The sounds of her slickness and sighs fill the room. Her mortal flesh twitches beneath his tongue. His thoughts beat against his skull. _Jude. Jude. Jude._

When they are dressed she does not leave him with a kiss, but a command veiled as a reminder.

“Don't forget what I said about Nicasia."

_V._

He has always imagined love as creature that prowls, with claws, and teeth dripping with heart’s blood.

Now-

When he thinks of love all he sees is Jude at the bottom of the sea; waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


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